Rotated Out
28 Dec 2020Gemini Targren
+++ Begin Communication Log:"Federal Flight Control, this is Delacey Foxtrot-Foxtrot-Romeo, requesting docking clearance."
"Welcome back to Brunel Hub, Commander. Docking approved for pad Zero-Three."
"Thanks, Flight Control. Please notify the QM that Fafnir is coming in ready to move another load."
"Negative, Fafnir. Quartermaster reports that you've completed your contractual allotment at this time. The Federation Thanks you for your devoted service, and invites you to make use of station facilities to refresh your vessel and yourself before moving on."
"Roger, and out, Flight Control."
+++ Communication Log Ends
War, Pestilence, Famine, and Death; the whole squad has been hard at work out here. I've had to sleep in my ship most of the time - when I've had time to sleep - to make sure I don't catch the nasty bug that's been spreading, and food is scarce enough that I've been tearing into my emergency rations rather than taking any from the stations. Part of me almost feels guilty about heading back into the bubble, but I know I'm just one ship, and I honestly can't wait to get back to Saktsak, clean myself up, and gorge myself in a real meal.
And to see Marina. I know I've only been gone a week, and it's hardly the longest we've been apart, but something about seeing the misery these people have been enduring has made it that much harder to bear, and it's all I can think about as I bunk down in the back of Fafnir's cockpit. I almost want to leave now, but if I don't get some sack time, I'll almost definitely end up jumping headlong into a star in the way home.
I did sell off those cargo racks, too, but the hold is still going to need a good hose-out...